


Two for the Price of One

by saynomore



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accidental Polyamory, Alpha Andy, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Zayn, Experimentation, M/M, Multi, Omega Liam, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Tension, Threesome - M/M/M, Unrequited Love, unestablished relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-05 11:42:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3118880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saynomore/pseuds/saynomore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Please Zayn, it’s really not a big deal. He’s a good guy. Won’t take up too much space. He’s really just looking for somewhere to crash while he’s searching for a place of his own.”</p><p>Or-</p><p>Andy's childhood friend comes to stay with them, and Zayn's life will never be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

“Babe, did I tell you about the seventeenth?” Andy asks through a mouthful of chips, wiping his hands on the cheap paper napkin. It’s Friday night, and Zayn came out with Andy’s office mates, the cheap static light from the TV washing him out and making his fake tan even more apparent. The noises from the dark restaurant surround their long table, the hoots from the football fans by the bar only slightly louder than the sportscasters on the TV. He’s got a bit of sauce on his chin, and Zayn would tell him, he really would, but Andy spent a little too long ogling their waitress for him to feel bad about it. 

“What about the seventeenth?” The memory sits on the periphery of his mind but Zayn can’t seem to recall what Andy had said. He must’ve brought it up while Zayn was watching White Collar, so it must be something Zayn would only agree to when thoroughly distracted by Matt Bomer. 

“My friend Liam’s coming to stay with us, remember?” He doesn’t. Andy reaches over him to grab another chip, perfectly occupying his mouth so Zayn can’t make him explain. He doesn’t remember that one of Andy’s friends was coming into town, and definitely doesn’t remember agreeing to let him stay at their loft. 

“And you’re choosing to bring it up now?” Zayn admonishes. Andy huffs, pushing his thick eyebrows up and raising his hands over the table.

“Please Zayn, it’s really not a big deal. He’s a good guy. Won’t take up too much space. He’s really just looking for somewhere to crash while he’s searching for a place of his own.”

Andy is insufferable, he really is. But it’s something Zayn’s gotten used to, and at the end of it all it means Zayn doesn’t have to worry too much about his own actions. That’s the absolute beauty of their relationship. As much as he can’t stand Andy’s petulance, he’s tolerable. They even each other out, because the whole element of guilt and inadequacy in a relationship is gone. Zayn doesn’t have to worry about getting home at a reasonable hour, or remembering all of his friends’ names, or sending him texts when either of them are away from home. Romantic appeal is something that faded out for Zayn somewhere between his second girlfriend and fourth boyfriend. He likes living his life without the pressure, without constantly feeling the push on every beta to mate with the first beta or omega that will give them a second look. He thinks that Andy likes it too, that he doesn’t have to worry about taking care of heats or the pressure of mating.

Alphas have always appealed to Zayn the most. They’re direct, they know what they want, and Zayn doesn’t have to stay guessing. They understand him, far more than any of his omega girlfriends or beta boyfriends. Andy gets his pent up sexuality, gets that what society wants out of him is different than what he wants for himself. 

And, if they’re really being honest with each other, it’s the sex.

They’re messy and careless and selfish and rampant with each other. He doesn’t feel embarrassed about asking Andy for something, and they both take what they want. Zayn likes that they’re so rough around the edges, that Andy is never gentle when he shoves Zayn up against the wall, or down onto the floor. He doesn’t like feeling delicate, and he's never been comfortable being completely in control.

They’ve never been conventional. Calling what they have together a relationship is a stretch, at best. But at this point in his life, Zayn is more than willing to take what he can get. They put up with each other, and it’s enough.

“How long?” He has a feeling that he’s not going to like Andy’s answer. 

“Like- till he finds a place, you know? Not too long, I don’t think. He’s, like, offered to pay rent for the extra room, too.” It makes Zayn feel a bit better to know that he’s not giving up his work space for nothing. 

“It’s ok with me, yeah, but I wish you’d just told me sooner.” Zayn says into his coke. He’s sick to his stomach from the smell of wings and grimy beer. The blue light is starting to make his head pound, and he really just wants to be at home, laying out the ground work for the donation piece, listening to his music and letting everything else go. 

Andy doesn’t seem to hear him, though, too busy laughing and clapping a hand on Mark’s shoulder. Zayn really hates this particular group of Andy’s friends. The Work Alphas, as he likes to call them, are somewhat older and richer than they are but insist on coming to the trashiest sports bars with the least clothed waitresses. They get their rocks off to shitty American television, oily wings, and talking about their supposedly demanding and emasculating wives. He doesn’t even know how Andy knows them, but it’s mostly a money thing. They pay for his drinks, and he offers them praise for their doggish ways. It’s nauseating, and why Zayn usually doesn’t come along- but Andy pouted at him at their doorway when he was about to go out, bribing him with cherry coke and not having to do dishes.

It’s times like these where Zayn feels eleven again, sitting upstairs in his room listening to house guests, his parents’ laughter, his sisters’ voices. The kind of alienation he finds comfort in, but a part of him still feels on the edge to loneliness. To not being able to relate to the large groups in elementary school. And while it’s not Andy’s job to check in on him, he shouldn’t have dragged Zayn along when he knew he wouldn’t have talked to anyone, when anyone wouldn’t have talked to him. 

And maybe that’s the beauty of their relationship-

that when Zayn gets up and places a few pounds on the table for his coke and chips, wraps his big grey coat around his shoulders, and finally swings out the door with a small chime lost in the din of the bar-  
Andy doesn’t even spare him a glance.

\--

Zayn gets home and collapses against the door, feeling overwhelmingly idiotic for the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. His fist bangs hard against the door before he can call attention to his own actions and reprimand himself for being so affected. It’s so fucking childish, and so fucking pointless, to get wrapped up like this, like he’s seventeen and streaking his sheets because of some dumb boy who didn’t like him back, some distraught girl who promised him a date and had to drop out of school because she got pregnant. 

He strips into his boxers and his tee shirt in seconds, dropping his phone into the dock and letting the first song that comes on envelop him completely. He’s more excited about this piece than he has been in awhile, but something about the fluidity between it all seems so off. He’s had to resort to cutting back on the spray paint because of the minute detailed panelling on the underbelly, the way the colors are supposed to translate more seamlessly into the paleness of the rest of the sculpture. It’s how he eventually falls asleep, orange and blue streaks up and down his arms, transferring gently onto the scratchy throw over the futon once Zayn collapses. By the time Andy gets home, Zayn’s already fast asleep in the extra bed.

\--

Zayn forgets about Andy’s friend entirely until the weekend of his arrival. Andy wakes him up at the crack of dawn to get the house ready, and to clear out the extra room. Zayn tries very hard not to be resentful about it all, but really, why does he have to give up all of his space and spend all of his time on accommodating for Andy’s friend? Why can’t this kid crash at a hotel or a hostel or with another friend or anything, anywhere, really, that isn’t their apartment? He knows it’s the nice thing to do, to offer your place for a friend to stay if he’s in need. It just doesn’t seem the sort of thing Andy would do; he values his privacy nearly as much as Zayn. He knows he’s being a prick about it, but he doesn’t go with Andy to the station to pick Liam up. He’s simply not Zayn’s problem, and he’s spent all of his day getting ready for him, anyway. 

When he hears Andy’s loud laugh coming down the hallway, Zayn doesn’t budge from his spot at the table. The door swings open not a few seconds later and bumps against the wall to make way for the large suitcase Andy's pushing, a fresh grin on his face. 

Liam’s carrying a smaller duffel in one hand and a guitar case in the other, his nose red from the cold. He’s tall but has a quietness about him, with the way he moves, like he’s trying to take up as little space as possible. It’s a stark contrast to Andy’s exaggerated movements and height, which are possibly the most attractive things about him. Zayn hates to admit it, but they look cute together, catching up like the lost months or years are nonexistent. 

Liam notices him and smiles, dipping his head politely. 

“Zayn, babe, come say hi to Liam.” Zayn hates it when Andy gives him directions. He shakes the boy’s hand nonetheless, his flesh still chilled from their walk from the station. He looks young up close, and he wonders how it’s possible that this boy spent his childhood with Andy. Light brown curls tip over his forehead messily, and his eyebrows are thick and unplucked. He’s got a slightly upturned nose that’s ever so endearing, and Zayn swears that his cheeks weren’t this pink when he walked through the door. 

“I’m Zayn,” he greets as warmly as he can.

“Liam, and yeah, I’ve heard loads about you.” His voice curves gently around each word, soft and low. He must be a beta with the inflection, with the more subdued curl of his hand around Zayn’s. He was expecting another Andy, another loud and dominating presence in the house. The type who wouldn’t pick up after himself, would automatically dislike Zayn because he was a male beta dating a male alpha.

“Yeah? Sorry ‘bout that.” Zayn prides himself on the way Liam chuckles, his head ducking slightly. He has a warm presence about him, so different from the low key temperatures of most betas, even though they’d just come in from the cold. Zayn has to stop himself from taking a step closer. Andy shoves at Zayn gently, knocking his thoughts away and walking past to pull Liam’s suitcase into the extra room. 

Neither of them feel compelled for conversing. Liam steps away to look out the windows, taking his time when gazing at Zayn’s art on the walls. 

 

“Andy’s told me you’re an artist. Are these all yours?” The awe in his voice is concealed but genuine, and Zayn hates the way he’s already a bit won over. Midland charm can be the absolute worst.

“Yeah. Like, all except for the photographs.” Liam nods, taking everything in. 

“You’re very good. Andy wasn’t kidding.” The praise pools warm in Zayn’s stomach before he can steel himself, before he can remind himself that most of it is just the simple obligation that people have to feel they need to compliment him. But something tells him Liam doesn’t have an obligatory bone in his body, that he’s not filled with the same conventions. He wouldn’t spend so long pondering the individual pieces. He stops in front of Zayn’s senior project and furrows his brow, tracing the edge of the canvas lightly with his finger. 

“This is amazing.” He breathes, awe lighting up his features.

Zayn doesn’t understand why his stomach tightens at the words. Many people who come through their flat comment on the piece of art. It’s nearly as tall as Zayn himself, and its intricate designs and patterns go together fluidly, concisely, in refinement, like his art teacher had praised when he turned the assignment in. He hated to explain it to the man and hates to explain it now, that it’s not intended to be abstract, not meant to be reminiscent of Roman mosaics or an allusion to early Picasso. He created it for his mum, to bless the house that his father had bought them after Zayn graduated, a much smaller residential home farther away from the center of the city, so that they could pay his tuition. He didn’t want to explain the way his mum cried when he’d given it her, or how he had to take it back into his apartment when his parents had to move in with his grandmother after his father had lost his job.

Despite everything, Zayn finds himself stumbling through an explanation of Islamic art and the tradition of geometry in fives and eights, of gracing a new home with such a painting. Liam nods at him with wide eyes, his focused gaze travelling back and forth from Zayn to the painting. 

“What’s taking so long in there?” He hears Andy yell from the other room, but he can’t quite take his eyes off the way Liam keeps looking over the painting, like something new is going to jump out at him from the wall. Some part of Zayn doesn’t want Andy to come back into the room, because he feels like he could be stuck in this moment forever. 

He does come back, heavy footfalls pulling Liam out of his trance. “Zayn boring you with his art talk?” Andy teases, but it doesn’t quite sound like his usual jesting. It doesn’t seem as light with the way his arm swings heavy over Liam’s shoulder, and how his gaze doesn’t even flicker from Liam’s face. 

“Not boring at all, you knob!” Liam laughs, shoving at Andy’s stomach gently with both palms. Even though Liam isn’t physically small, he’s dwarfed by Andy’s larger frame, his palms barely taking up half of the surface of Andy’s stomach. It feels like Zayn is missing something in the looks they exchange, the joking way Andy pushes Liam around a bit as they scuffle around the apartment. He feels like pulling them away from each other, but he doesn’t know which part of the situation he’s uncomfortable with. “Zayn was just explaining to me- stop!” Liam pants, ducking away from Andy’s hands, coming close to Zayn as if he’s hiding. “-how it’s like, traditional, for new homes. You should be grateful for him. He should be grateful for you,” he says earnestly, turning towards Zayn and giggling. Andy comes to rest between them, both of their cheeks ruddy from the exertion. “He really doesn’t deserve you, if all the stuff he’s told me about you is true.” Andy scoffs and pulls Zayn in by his waist, smacking a kiss on his cheek, but his gaze doesn’t break from Liam’s. 

“Nah, mate, he’s the one who doesn’t deserve me.”

“Bullshit,” Zayn laughs, relief coming easy when Andy finally smiles at him. 

“Okay. Enough chit chat. I could eat a fucking whale,” Andy exclaims, already pulling his phone out to look up a place to eat. “Z, don’t you think we should take Li to that Korean place on Gentry? Ace food, man. Sick noodles.”


	2. II

Zayn knows it’s rude to be on his phone while Liam and Andy are carrying on, but Andy hadn't spared him a glance since they'd stepped into the small, dimly lit restaurant. Although Zayn and Andy are sitting next to each other in the booth, Andy is leaning the bulk of his arms and torso all the way over the table. A funny feeling weaves its way into Zayn's consciousness as he watches him converse with Liam, like he's missing something crucial. 

He doesn't much mind not participating, because he has a feeling he wouldn't even know what to say to Liam. He's young, younger than Zayn by at least two years, and Zayn has a feeling that he's not the type of guy Liam hangs out with at his uni. He's floored that Andy and him seemed to be so close in primary, because Zayn hasn't met a single one of Andy's friends who doesn't belch in public.

"Ready?" Andy asks, getting up to head to the silverware table, where he grabs a fistful of napkins and wipes down the table. What universe has Zayn accidentally fallen into? 

\--

Zayn's cleaning up the dishes from dinner when Liam steps into the kitchen, bringing over a pile of dirty plates. Andy had cooked hash, and they'd all sat around the tiny table in the kitchenette in sparse conversation and companionable silence. 

"You don't have to help me out, Liam." Zayn's words are lost on his ears as Liam snaps on Andy's pair of lemon yellow gloves with two raised eyebrows. "Okay, cheeky. Thanks for the help." 

Liam smiles one of his sun wide smiles at Zayn and sinks his hands into the soapy dishwater. Zayn can feel the same warmth radiating off of Liam that was present the morning he came to stay, but it's much more noticeable now, Liam's arms practically brushing his own as he hands Zayn dishes to load in the dishwasher. Zayn thinks it's something like sitting in front of a fire, lulled by the brightness of the Flames and the heat on your skin that you forget everything else going on around you. 

"Andy said that you guys have been together for awhile now?" It's probably one of the last things Zayn likes to talk about with anyone. Discussing what he and Andy have is a frustrating waste of time. But his thoughts get caught up and strung out in a limbo, in the curl of Liam's hair, in the way the light from the window spills out across his shoulders. He has to cough and bury his hands deep in the sink. He just wants to see if Liam's skin feels that warm if he presses his hands against it-

"Zayn?" 

"Yeah, I'm. Andy is. We're, uh, great." His voice sounds like he just swallowed acid, but Liam doesn't seem to notice.

"You don't have to tell me, like- I don't want to pry, or anything. I'm just curious. Andy's not really-" Liam cuts himself off, an obvious color spreading across his face. "Sorry. I'm just pleasantly surprised to find him with someone like you." 

His cheeks are the color of the firecracker tins that Zayn's cousin had hidden under his bed when they were growing up, and Zayn finds it more amusing than affronting. "Andy's not really what?" Zayn inquires, but Liam's already steadfastly shaking his head. "Is it really that bad? If he's a serial killer, you have to tell me." His stomach gets warm when Liam lets out a peal of laughter, breaking the blush up on his face. He feels dirty, somehow, like it was too easy and predictable to make Liam laugh like that. He wouldn't take it back for the world.

"No, nothing like that. He's just- I never thought he'd ever be able to pull someone like you. Wow, I'm really, I'm just making it worse for myself," he nervously huffs. 

He's too much, in that moment, his proximity and redness and full lips going to Zayn's head. Maybe he just hasn't been around anyone other than Andy and his friends for far too long, because compliments don't usually fizzle through his body like this. Zayn and Andy have never been too keen on monogamy, but Zayn's been so wrapped up in his art lately that Andy's the only person who's touched him for months. Liam isn't an alpha, isn't even remotely the type to make Zayn's stomach weak, but the head rush is so powerful that when Liam brushes the front of Zayn's trousers to put away a knife, Zayn's cock jumps in his pants. He jolts away from Liam immediately, and he can feel the way his whole body is starting to react. He needs to get out of there.

"I just remembered. I have to, uh- had to be at the studio. Like, half an hour ago. So I'm going to-" Zayn jerks his humb over his shoulder and all but runs out of the apartment, slamming the door on Liam's protests that he left his keys and phone on the plastic counter. Zayn thanks his lucky stars that he never removed his wallet from his jeans, surveying the shops below his building for somewhere he can go to catch his breath. He ducks into a Kolache shop a street over, his mind still reeling.

This is only natural. Liam is an attractive person who got too close to Zayn when he was least expecting it. There was nothing going on besides Zayn's horniness getting the best of him. Liam is Andy's best mate. Zayn's not attracted to him beyond what would be considered a normal level of acknowledging someone's objective attractiveness. 

He gets a black coffee and grabs one of the pre-wrapped kolaches on the counter. The barista shoots him a concerned look when he tells him to keep the change for a twenty, but Zayn is otherwise preoccupied. He takes a seat in the farthest corner of the storefront, pulling his phone out as an alibi. Liam's quirked up lips paint their way into Zayn's mind's eye too quickly for the heated coffee to scald them away. 


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: recreational drugs and mild cuddling.

"Zayn, babe, you should call Ian."

They typically have a no talking before 9 AM rule enforced in the apartment. Zayn tries to remind Andy by glaring at his back from the mirror in their bathroom. Toothpaste coats the inside of his mouth as he takes extra long to brush and rinse, and Andy's reflection sends him a knowing look of disapproval. Ian is a fucking idiot, but he sells the best weed in East London. Everyone makes sacrifices.

"Maybe it's your turn to go pick it up. I went last time, remember?" Fighting it is futile, but he has to at least try. Andy is insufferable when he gets his way. 

"Yeah, 'cept how we both know that he gives you a discount because he wants to fuck you."  
Zayn throws Andy a sharp look, but Andy just shrugs, picking up a laundry basket from the floor. "Let me know when you get back. Don't want him to kidnap you or something." 

\--

Ian's waiting for Zayn on a park bench, his arms folded over each other and a smirk on his face.

"Long time no see, Zayn. Still with that prick?" Physical contact, especially from people Zayn doesn't care for that much, is not something he enjoys. He shrugs away from the arm Ian wants to swing over his shoulder, the hand that wants to find itself at the small of his back. Zayn's glad that Ian always wants to meet him in a somewhat public place, because he doesn't like the feeling he gets when Ian smiles at him, like a shark smelling blood.

"Andy? 'Fraid so, man." His smile is docile, but he's putting his guard up. Zayn's learned that when dealing with alphas, it's best to assert your control in smaller ways. Demand respect and you'll receive it, but be careful not to be brash. Squaring his shoulders and pushing out his jaw, but keeping a smile on his face has fared Zayn well so far.

Ian laughs, his rat nose climbing higher on his pinched in face. He's a bit on the scrawny side, and if it wasn't for his speech and physical confidence, Zayn would've readily assumed he was a beta. 

"Alright, then. I've got you some really good shit this time, mate. Top of the line."

It's a hook, what dealers use to get people to pay the highest price and buy more at once. Zayn doesn't believe for a second it's gonna do anything to him he hasn't felt before, but he's got to give it to Ian for the sell. He probably makes a lot more money that way.

Ian insists on walking Zayn back through the park, making small talk as if they were old mates. He knows that Andy's right, knows from the mere twenty pounds he shoved into Ian's hands somewhere past the bridge. There's got to be some part of Ian that has hope despite the fact that, for all he knows, Zayn and Andy could be the happiest couple in England. He probably has some people blowing him behind water fountains for the kind of discount he gives Zayn. He doesn't want to dwell on it too much. A lot of alphas like him. He thinks it has something to do with a challenge- they enjoy superiority, but want someone to spit in their face once in awhile. 

They go their separate ways once they round back to the bench, Ian slapping Zayn on the shoulder and wishing him well. There was a time when Ian's attention, albeit gross and mostly unwanted, was flattering.

Now Zayn just wants to get lit.

\--

Liam's sitting on the couch when Zayn gets in. He smiles over the top of his computer screen and folds it over, putting it to the side and making room next to him for Zayn to sit. There isn't much light coming in from the windows, and he reaches over to flick on the table lamp. Liam's got on sweatpants and a worn sleep shirt with a few holes dotting through the light blue fabric. He must be staring, because Liam smiles and shakes his head.

"Never really been able to throw it away." He crookedly smiles at Zayn, white teeth a perfect line against the almost darkness of the room. "How did your errand go? Did you find everything you were looking for?" 

It takes Zayn a moment to catch onto the fact that Andy probably lied to Liam about where he was going, making him then wonder why he'd ever feel the need to lie. "I think so." Nodding his head, Liam swings his feet up from where they were tucked under his body. "Would you like some water, or some pasta salad? I made some for lunch." His voice sounds small as he bangs around in the kitchen. Before Zayn can really think about the offer, Liam's pushing a bowl full of penne and a glass of water over the coffee table. 

"I think you and I might be forgetting that you're he guest in this house," Zayn says halfheartedly, taking pride in the smile Liam sends him as he scoops pasta into his mouth. "Thank you, it's really good." Zayn feels like he may have moaned, but it's been awhile since he's felt so hungry. Taking a moment, he closes his eyes to savor the food. 

"You're welcome. I figured it's the least I could do, like. I'm sure that me being here is not ideal for you, and I really appreciate everything you're doing to accommodate me. You and Andy, but. You didn't even know me before I came here. And Andy didn't even tell me that you'd be giving up your studio space, and I'm not even paying rent-" He gets this incredibly adorable perplexed expression on his face, like he hadn't really thought it through until then, and. Zayn doesn't have any other choice, really.

"It's really nothing. I admit, like, wasn't the most thrilled when he told me," they both laugh pleasantly. Liam gets really cute when he laughs. "But, it's kind of nice to have the company." Liam looks so soft in the dim light of the living room, his eyes shining in the blue light. Zayn could kiss him, he realizes. Zayn could lean forward across the cushions separating them and gently grab his chin. He could make Liam forget about the paper he's writing, could feel his exhales and warmth under his own lips. 

Instead, he brings both of their dishes to the sink, and puts on a Twilight Zone while they wait for Andy to get back from the office. He pretends like he doesn't feel warmth pool through his stomach at the slight brush of their thighs, or the way he can almost feel Liam's hair across his cheek.

It feels like no time has past when Liam plops his head on Zayn's shoulder, his light snores huffing against Zayn's chest. He'd be mortified if he knew he was invading Zayn's space like this, and Zayn can see the embarrassed coloring of his face if he found out. He smiles into Liam's hair.

On closer inspection Liam's skin isn't a perfect tan, like it seemed to innately be. He had soft circles of purple under his eyes. Zayn knew all too personally that the futon was not the most ideal place to get a good night's sleep. He thinks that maybe he should let Liam sleep in the bed with Andy tonight, and the thought comes so quickly that Zayn doesn't have time to think about how ridiculous it all is. He hates intimacy. That's why he's dating fucking Andy Samuels.

None of it matters because the drafts in the walls can't hit him when he's got Liam tucked into his side, keeping him warm. None of it matters, because this is the most at peace Zayn has been for weeks.

He's almost annoyed when he hears Andy bang through the door, and hisses at him to be quiet. Andy saunters over and softly coos when he sees Liam, brushing a hand over the round of his cheek. "Looks like you boys are getting along just fine then." Zayn knocks his leg out to kick Andy in the shin, careful not to jostle Liam from his sleep.

He snickers and plops down on Liam's other side, face going soft as he combs his beefy fingers through Liam's curls. Zayn can't think of anything they've ever done that is even close to being this intimate.

The brink of something big approaches Zayn in that room, something that he'd been looking over for a very long time. There's a reason why Andy hardly ever brings up his hometown or his past relationships. There's a reason Andy's dating someone who has no desire for emotional investment, and no need to be intimate or exclusive. 

The thought vanishes before it can really lead somewhere when Liam yawns his way back to life, blinking twice at the both of them before he turns scarlet. The rest of the night passes so quickly that the thought doesn't cross Zayn's mind, floating somewhere in his subconscious abyss to be pulled out another day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please give me feedback/suggestions/questions here or on tumblr! I've had a lot of fun writing this series and I hope that it's a pairing other people would like to see. I think that exploring a/b/o dynamics is some of the most fun I've had writing a fic! Thanks, as always, just for reading :)
> 
> Much love,
> 
> June


	4. IV

Zayn wakes up panting, sweaty, and the hardest he's been in weeks. The sheets stick to his skin but he can't be bothered to care, because it feels like his body could be on fire. There's a stillness to the apartment that tells him he's the first one awake, which is a mystery in itself because Zayn sleeps like the dead.

Fantasy must've found him in his sleep, because he can already feel the tightness in his stomach and the sweat on his brow that usually only happen minutes into fucking. Unable to help himself with the sheer amount of need in his bones, he shoves his hand in his pants and closes his eyes. It's the kind of wank that he doesn't even have to picture someone with him, doesn't have to recall some cheap porno or his last time. His mind feels scarily blank as it tries to dive into his dream memory, because if he remembers what got Zayn going like this, it'll only take seconds for him to come.

The pooling in his stomach grows wider and Zayn knows he's close, so he turns himself onto his side and humps his hips down on the bed, and it's all it takes. Numbness washes over the usual laziness Zayn feels after an orgasm. He's the type to smoke a cigarette in sticky sheets and not move for an hour, resigned to the comfort of his bed after exerting himself. This time, Zayn's grasping for control. Breaths don't seem to come in fast enough, and Zayn starts when he realizes that the thrum of his orgasm doesn't leave when he tries to bring himself back by sitting up. Andy's curled into the sheets on the far side of the bed, his own dick peaking his boxer shorts and his cheeks pink with arousal. 

They've gotten to the point where their horniness usually comes mutually. Alpha and beta hormones are nowhere near as in sync as the heats and mating cycles involving omegas with anyone else, but Zayn's found that as he and Andy adapted to each other's needs, they started to feel horny together, even so much that they didn't really need preamble or foreplay. Zayn would get home from the studio having already fingered himself and Andy would be waiting on their bed, sprawled out and ready for Zayn to sink down onto him. He'd never call Andy anything short of selfish in the bedroom, but one of his very favorite things to do has always been to hold Zayn down and suck him off, and Zayn's gotten to the point where he knows when Andy's in the mood for it. Being a beta, his primary sexual urge is not to have an alpha fuck him into the sheets every day, and Andy's come a long way to accept that part of their relationship. There are some things they just can't give each other, and that's why Zayn's never felt all too bothered by both of them sleeping around.

There's something about today that feels different from their days of anticipation. He can usually feel this draw from Andy when he gets close to him, their hormones communicating with each other before they do. But Zayn didn't feel that tuned into Andy's hormones, even though his boyfriend was hard and sleeping in bed right next to him. It feels like there is something very different about what happened, almost like...it's too bizarre to entertain, but it's closer to what he used to feel with his omega ex girlfriends. There isn't really an explanation for it, though, because he is at least an apartment away from the closest omega, and his hormones are never that strong. 

Zayn leaves Andy curled over in the bed. In a few minutes he'll no doubt be awake and turned on. Zayn doesn't really know how he didn't wake Andy up with all of his noise. Even more than that, Zayn doesn't know how Andy wasn't woken up by Zayn's hormones going haywire as he was getting off right next to him! That could only mean that whatever was affecting Zayn was also affecting Andy, but it had nothing to do with each other. He feels tired, all of a sudden, but his skin is flushed and it still feels like he's being lit afire, something raging deep from his mind to his dick to his toes. The heat doesn't dissipate when he forces himself under the cold spray of the shower. It takes almost no time for him to become hard again, and Zayn has to brace himself against the wall because he comes so hard that his vision blanks out. 

For the first few waking minutes of his day Zayn feels like he's in some sort of daze. The static under his skin refuses to retreat even after his third wank, fast and rough after Andy had woken up, expectedly just as aroused and desperate. The steady hum of the water in the pipes from Andy's shower calm his mind down a bit. It must be a hormone thing, he thinks, which can sneak up on you easily. Andy hasn't had one of his 'errands' in almost record time, and the last time they had sex was two days before Liam came, now a week and four days prior. Blue balls don't usually affect them quite so similarly, but it has been awhile.

Zayn's pulse all but skyrockets when Liam walks into the kitchen, hair still tousled and eyes still squinty from sleep. The head rush is so strong that he spills a carton of milk all over himself, which Liam immediately ducks over and begins to help clean up. He thinks that Liam's said something, but the ringing in his ears is so loud that he would never be able to know. His dick throbs in his sleep trousers but the feeling attacks his whole body, and all he wants to do is to lean down and get his hands on Liam, to make him cry out-

All he can do is stand there, helplessly gaping at Liam mopping up Cheerios with a rag, when it hits him like a freight train. 

He doesn't know how he could've missed it. It's so unbearably obvious now. 

Liam's an omega.


	5. V

"Are you all right?" Liam asks, his brow pulled in concern. Zayn registers that he should probably say something, but he's feeling the shock of electricity crackling through his bones. Liam looks more than confused, and after he drops the rags into the sink he comes to stand in front of Zayn, grabbing him by his shoulders and rubbing his skin. His skin pricks under Liam's touch, the electric current growing even stronger. There's nothing going on in his mind but a numb and vast urge to pounce, to grab Liam by his shoulders and have their bare skin sliding against each other. 

"Liam, you're going to have to let go of me." He isn't sure that the words actually came until Liam relieves him, stepping back a few feet. The space gives him room to breathe, and he realizes that he's almost animalistically panting. 

"What's going on, Zayn? Do I need to get Andy?" All he can do is shake his head as emphatically as he can, trying to catch his breath and calm his thoughts enough to look at Liam without needing to touch him. 

"Need to get me for what?" Andy asks, walking in the room scratching his belly and abruptly stopping. Zayn can't see him from where he's gripping the table for dear life, but he can feel the Alpha's presence somewhere behind him. 

"Liam, babe, did you maybe forget something this morning? Is it, you know, time?" 

He says it so gently that Zayn almost misses it, but he can't miss how Andy's words dawn on Liam, that they color his face pink.

"Am I?" Liam whispers with peeled eyes as wide as Zayn has ever seen them. He brings his hands back to his body and backs away from the two of them before Andy can answer them. 

"Yeah, babe, you are. Woke me and Zayn right up, like." His voice is playful but Liam looks absolutely mortified. Zayn almost feels better about his predicament, knowing that Liam's not going to be offended by his inability to move or speak. 

"I'm so, Zayn, I'm so sorry- I didn't know it was going to affect you like this, or I would've told you-" Liam breaks off from his apology and curls his fists hard into his shirt, face going slack and wild all at once. It's unlike anything Zayn's ever seen before. With his omega girlfriends, they'd get their heats and press up all over him, and only then would he feel this ravishing need in his blood. This feeling courses through him in waves, growing stronger just by being in the same room as Liam. 

"Liam, I think it's best of Zayn and I leave you alone for a little while. Ok, Zayn? We can go to Benny's and get breakfast."

Liam and Zayn both nod fixedly at the floor. In his absentminded mess Zayn forgot both his jacket and his wallet, instantly regretting it when they step out of their apartment building into torrents of rain. It helps cool him down, though, and he slowly comes back from the state he was in up in the apartment. The wind and sound of water hitting the pavement are too loud to talk over, so they walk in silence all the way to the small restaurant. Taking a booth near the back, Andy passes Zayn his jacket to wrap around himself, and he doesn't have enough pride left to decline.

Once Zayn finally gets some clarity back in his head, he asks. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this was short, but I wanted to post it so that everyone would know I am going to continue this series! I'm sorry it's been awhile since the last update, I'll be better :)
> 
> June


	6. VI

For the first time in weeks, Andy is silent. He shovels a forkful of eggs in his mouth as an excuse. Zayn doesn't push him, because he knows by now that the uncensored truth from Andy takes time. 

"I didn't think it was a big deal. He's usually really good about staying on his suppressants and predicting his heats. I honestly didn't think you'd even notice, being a beta. He kept it from me for months after he presented. Made up some lie during his first heats about having the flu." Andy still hasn't established eye contact with Zayn, feigning nonchalance as he bites into his toast. The gut feeling is creeping back to his abdomen from the day on the couch. Before today, Zayn sensed there was something big Andy wasn't telling him. After Liam's secret came out, why would Zayn still feel like he is being kept in the dark? The whole point of his relationship with Andy is that it's easy. They don't get their feelings hurt because they don't feel all that much for each other in the first place, plain and simple. So why does Andy feel the need to lie to Zayn? And more than that, why does it bother him? 

"Aren't you going to eat that?" Gesturing at Zayn's plate, Andy speaks with his mouth full and it makes Zayn's stomach clench. He pushes the plate across the table. If Andy wants to be a passive ass, he can do what he wants. Zayn feels for his cigarettes in the leg of his pants, and grabs the red lighter from Andy's jacket before swinging round the booth and ducking outside. The rain has stopped, leaving a dank and gloomy day in its wake. He finally lets his mind wander back to the apartment, allowing the nicotine to do its work and make his hands stop shaking. 

Liam's everywhere. He sees him spreading himself out on the bed, taking his time to run his hands over his feverish skin before he sets to work. It's hypnotic, plugging up Zayn's thoughts to a slow reel of Liam's eyes, and his hands, and the taste of his skin. Opening Zayn's eyes relieves him from the image but not from the feeling, the buzz of electricity that is still in his system even after their separation.

\--

It goes back to the most normal circumstances possible given their situation. Liam is incredibly apologetic and unfortunately clothed when they return, already having ordered in Chinese with a profusely sorry expression on his face. Zayn wonders if Liam had to run off to the pharmacy to get delay meds, if he left the apartment in the state he was in before. The thought of Liam going out in public in that state makes him nervous. The smell of him alone would be enough to draw an Alpha from across the store. The urge Zayn has to reassure him that it was fine and not Liam's fault is overpowering, like he needs to make Liam feel better at all costs. It was embarrassing, but nobody should have to apologize for the normal and involuntary functions of their body.

In reflection, Zayn is also surprised by how self controlled Andy was on that morning. Alphas feel an omega's pull at least twice as strongly as betas, especially at such close quarters, and yet Andy took care of the situation everything with a seemingly practiced ease, like he knew how to handle himself around omegas. Like he knew how to handle himself around Liam. 

His control only has a short rope, though, because the next morning he comes into the kitchen with a phone in his hands and a filthy grin on his face.

"Zayn, you should take Liam with you to the studio this afternoon." Andy's so casual that Zayn wants to be sick into his porridge. Liam looks up from his laptop with wide eyes, the blue from the screen making his morning complexion even paler. 

"You don't have to. I don't want to be intruding or anything." Zayn picks up their empty bowls and glares at Andy, who just shrugs and winks at him. Zayn suppresses his urge to dump the sticky bits of porridge on Andy's greasy hair.

"Zayn likes guests. New energy, and such. Plus, you can see further South if you go down there with him. It's right beautiful, and rent is cheaper." Smirking into his phone, he sends another message without revealing any more. 

Zayn hurries Liam out of the house with little explanation. They walk side by side, Liam making light conversation about the weather and the episode of Doctor Who they all watched the night before. Early daylight forces him to squint his eyes against the sun, but every so often their coat covered arms brush together, so he doesn't pay brightness much mind. Liam has a way of making Zayn feel lighter, somehow, like the weight of Andy's shag and the secrets he kept don't matter so much when Liam's smiling next to him. 

"This is it?" Liam questions unnecessarily when Zayn slides the door open. 

"It's not much, but it's space, and rent is cheap." Zayn feels himself shrugging. Liam seems captivated by the walls, turning left and right in the big space as to not miss a thing. The green light bounces off his skin, and he fucking hates the word- but it looks like Liam is glowing. 

"Zayn, this is.. I don't even know what to say. Your work is spectacular." Now that Zayn knows about Liam, he can't stop thinking about him. It's not always sexual, even though he has been woken up at all times in the night achingly hard and drowsily hopeful. What Zayn notices more is how Liam is so innately warm and bright, unlike anyone Zayn has ever met. There is a magnetism whenever Zayn is around him, an orbit that pulls Zayn closer without consciously thinking. They'll be sitting on the couch, and he finds himself drawing Liam closer, or leaning into his shoulder when they're pressed against each other in the tube. The most torturous part, he thinks, is that Liam has never pulled away. He's not an incredibly touchy person, but it isn't unlike him to lean back into Andy if they've settled in to watch a movie, or hug Zayn hello when they've been separate all day. It would make it so easy, between all of the day to day contact, for Zayn to just lean over and kiss him. He's thought about it so many times that he's surprised he hasn't acted on it already. Standing in the green light of Zayn's studio, the dappled light making his eyes flicker bright, Liam feels irresistible. 

"I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry, Zayn. Not just with Andy there. I can't believe he didn't tell you, but it wasn't really his job. I know that living with someone like me can be... confusing, at the very least. If it creates too much of a problem, I completely understand. I can easily find a new place." Liam's kicking at nothing on the ground, scuffing his shoes against the concrete floors Zayn hasn't bothered to cover. There's so much he wants to say, so much he wants Liam to know. 

"Liam, it doesn't make any sort of difference to me that you're an omega. Maybe just warn us next time, ok?" 

"I don't know how that happened. Usually I know way in advance. I think maybe being around the both of you for so long set it off." He turns bright red, like he hadn't intended to reveal so much. 

"Does it really work that way?" The fascination in his voice int covered as much as he hoped, but liam takes it all in stride. 

"Yeah. It's similar, I've heard. Like, to alphas reactions. And I guess betas, too." He looks at Zayn with a smirk on his lips. Zayn shoves him lightly at the comment, halfway between embarrassed and delighted. It feels good to laugh with him. 

Zayn gets to work shortly after, asking Liam to help drag his latest piece to the main studio floor from his closet. The piece is almost eight feet high, and covered in a silly orange tarp his mum bought for him when he was still in secondary, stumbling through his first sculpting class. Liam seems to be in complete awe of the sculpture, telling Zayn that it looks like it could be in an art museum. Zayn lets Liam climb through the piece, and watches as he weaves through the splatter painted ladders and staircases leading to nowhere. It was supposed to be a commentary on how modern idealism of the 21st century is the same as the modernist movements back in the 60s, when surrealism and abstract art replaced the archaic. It was supposed to show how absurd it is that people think innovation and technology are somehow superior to the inventions of the past. But watching Liam climb through the fragmented pieces makes Zayn think that it might be much simpler. 

It might just be something beautiful, something to make people think, something for people to enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading and giving me feedback! I'm so glad to see that people are enjoying what I've written, in all of its twisted and unconventional glory. I love to hear from you guys, both here and on my tumblr (ziamstateofmind.tumblr.com). It won't be long before an update! ;)
> 
> June


	7. VII

Going to the studio becomes a regular thing for the two of them. Liam has a part time job at a small cafe taking orders in the early morning, and after he rolls out of bed around two in the afternoon, Zayn's awake and ready to go to the studio. They don't talk all that much. Liam likes sitting by the window with his laptop curled close to him, doing his coursework online and occasionally stepping out to bring them some food. Liam simply being present motivates Zayn to work, and he's finished two of his smaller side pieces in record time. Occasionally he finds tasks to ask Liam to assist him with. It might seem senile, but Liam's closeness to his work makes it seem more natural. He also can't help but to indulge himself on their own proximity, and the way their arms might brush when Liam holds a stray part up for Zayn to paint. It's toxic, sometimes, and Zayn has to hold his breath and remind himself of the thousand reasons why kissing Liam is a very, very bad idea. 

Andy doesn't seem to mind their absence at all. He always seems preoccupied with his phone, texting people at all hours of the day and night to meet up. The Alpha has never seemed so horny in his life, and Zayn often comes home to sticky sheets and condoms in the bin. When he confronts Andy about it he just laughs and shrugs it off. In a sadistic way, Zayn wants him and Liam to walk in on Andy. There's no explanation for why he wants Liam to see him in that light. Technically speaking, Andy is doing absolutely nothing wrong in the bounds of their relationship. There really are no established bounds at all, but Liam doesn't know that. He wonders, sometimes, what Liam would think if he found out. Would he think less of Andy? Would he say that zayn deserves better, or would he just be disgusted at the both of Them? Outright judgement and scorn don't seem likely at all coming from Liam, but he may see them as hedons or nymphos.

It's approaching two months, now, since Liam first moved in, and Zayn doesn't have the slightest impression that Liam's had a boyfriend, girlfriend, or even an intense heat in a long time. Despite his and Andy's reactions, Liam seems quite innocent to be the age and level of attractiveness that he is. It may just be the omega aura, to seem more nurturing, caring, and wholesome than oversexed. It makes Zayn feel like a bit of a pervert, if he's being honest. The thoughts don't really seem to end.

He wakes up one night achingly hard, with Andy draped all the way down his back. They don't hold each other at night, and before Zayn got rid of his for Liam, they'd more often than not sleep in their respective rooms. That's why it's more than unusual for Zayn to feel him so roughly pressed against him. He realizes that Andy is rocking against his back in slow circles, pushing his hard on steadily against Zayn's clothes hip. The contact feels relieving, but Zayn doesn't have the feeling in his stomach that he usually gets when he's turned on by Andy. As he wakes up more, it's obvious that even though they're sharing a bed, it isn't the Alpha's hormones that have made him rock solid. Regardless, Zayn grinds back against him to seek any sort of contact.

Andy snuffles awake, and soundlessly reaches over Zayn's chest to palm him through his trousers. It's easy to settle back into this, and the familiarity of it all comforts Zayn enough to distract him from the need he feels. The need that goes deeper than Andy, that's been burning through him like a fuse for weeks now. 

They don't kiss, but Andy does pull down Zayn's sleep trousers to make the slide between them more comfortable. Andy's grinding harder against him, now pushing up between the cleft of Zayn's bare ass. Zayn enjoys getting fucked by Andy, the domination making his blood run thicker, but tonight his touch feels too heavy, almost suffocating. He tries to gentle Andy away but he doesn't get the hint, so Zayn rolls over to face him instead. Spitting into his palm, he slicks up both of their cocks into his open fist and pulls. The relief feels so good, and Zayn lets himself close his eyes and imagine what it may be like to do this with Liam. He could reach around and use Liam's slick to wet them down, make it feel so good in his hands like they're actually fucking. 

Andy's grunting into Zayn's ear. He nuzzles a bit closer, pushing his arms over and around Zayn's shoulders to palm his ass instead. He doesn't try to finger him and Zayn is grateful, relishing in the touches brushing over his back and the soft skin below it. He takes Andy over first, jerking the orgasm from the alpha a bit more roughly than before. Andy grunts loud and guttural into Zayn's ear, and he doesn't bother to pretend that he misheard the 'Liam' strung in between. It's suddenness hits him hard, and it's also what sends him over a minute later, the image of Liam's bare chest, soft eyes, and the feel of his bare arms taking over Zayn's senses. He feels wracked afterwards, like he's never going to be able to take it back. 

They shift apart. Andy gets up to piss and clean himself, and the dim light from the bathroom keeps Zayn from sleeping until he returns. He thinks about Liam just a few doors away. He probably feels so good right now, even warmer and softer from sleep and the comfort of Zayn's soft blankets. They're going to smell like Liam for a long time, Zayn suddenly realizes, and it makes him smile softly, finally soothing Zayn back into sleep as Andy shuts off the light and joins him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been awhile, I'm so sorry! I just started a new job and school has been crazy, but in definitely not giving up on this series. I know it was short, but please let me know what you think about Zayn and Andy's progressing relationship! I love to hear specifics from you guys. 
> 
> Love, June


	8. VIII

When Zayn steps out of the dirty station, the sky is lit up in deep orange and scarred blue, baring the last round of the sun as it teases itself back to sleep. Breathing in the air, Zayn feels something a bit off putting in his fingertips and toes. It's the silly anticipation that gets him taking quicker strides down the narrow streets, smiling to himself as he passes closed shop windows and husbands returning from work. He feels something that he hasn't felt for a long, long time. 

He feels like he's going home.

\--

Andy kisses him the moment he walks through the door, wrapping his arms around the small of Zayn's back and almost knocking him over. Zayn is so caught off guard that he tumbles over the shoe rack, stumbling backwards in shock. He's lucky that l Liam didn't get bowled over in the process, declining to come with him this morning, opting to stay in after his long shift and catch up on some much needed sleep. He adorably yawned an apology to Zayn before he headed out, but Liam's definitely awake now.

"What's gotten into you?"Zayn asks, wiping the sick taste of stale beer off his lips. They don't even kiss during sex. Andy sways precariously back and forth, a slow smile on his flushed face. Liam's soft giggle comes from the back of the room, and Zayn looks over to find him curled up on the couch in sweatpants, hair messy and a bottle of beer in his hands. 

"Can't I welcome my boyfriend home?" Andy grumbles, piling into Zayn's space again. 

"I'm sorry about him. Probably should have cut him off at three." Liam nods towards a small army of beer bottles as he comes to stand beside Andy, gentling a long arm around his waist. He grunts as Andy leans almost all of his weight back onto Liam's hunched body, but Liam only sways with the weight as if he's more than accustomed to it. They have this way of fitting together, and it makes Zayn take too long to reply. 

"'S no problem, he's a grown up. Figure he should be able to take care of himself." Zayn's worried his grumpiness is coming across, but Liam just laughs, following Zayn back to the couches and sitting Andy down on one of them ever so gently. Liam moves to pull away from him, but Andy refuses to let go, and he pulls so hard that Liam topples over his lap. Laughing, he goes to sit up, but Andy lays his forearm over Liam's back so he can't. Zayn stares too long at how the appendage is as long as the small of Liam's back; how even though Liam's strong enough to lug Andy across the room, he can't get out from under his hold. 

"Let go of me!" Liam barks as he writhes from side to side. Andy has a lazy smirk on his face, and all Zayn can do is watch. Andy lays a pert, short smack on Liam's bum and then relents, removing his arms and letting Liam sit up. By the time Zayn can see Liam's face again he's flushed, shirt collar stretched and t shirt riding up his stomach. He has to look away. It's almost as if he's intruding, watching the two of them go back and forth. He hates the way his dick has been stirring in his pants, and the way he can feel in his face that he's flushed.

Andy's got his hands up in surrender as Liam turns the play fight around and hits him lightly with one of the pillows. "You're so rude. How does Zayn put up with you, honestly?" despite himself, Zayn grins back at Liam. There's something tangible in the air now- it seems so close and yet just out of reach, an idea that's been running from him that has shown itself. He feels it when Liam crinkles his eyes and smiles at him, finally plopping himself down between Andy and Zayn.

The couch is big enough for at least six people, but it's old and sagging. At least, that's what Zayn tells himself when he's a few beers in and nestled comfortably up to Liam's side. Liam keeps fidgeting throughout the movie, a sort of energy contained in him that slightly jostles Zayn. It isn't uncomfortable, but he puts a hand on Liam's knee without even thinking to still the movements. Liam sits stock still after that, stiffening at first and then relaxing into the touch. 

Andy drapes his tree branch of an arm over Liam's shoulders. The tips of his fingers are brushing Zayn's bicep, and it feels so unintentional that Zayn knows he should be bothered- but he can't bring himself to be, not when Liam plops his head on Zayn's shoulder and absentmindedly plays with his necklaces. His fingers are lightly brushing the pendants and toying with the chains. He periodically brushes Zayn's chest through his shirt, which feels so much more thin under their innate heat. In all honesty, Zayn can't remember a single time in his life where he's felt more content. 

When Liam's attention has wandered back to the film, Zayn glances over his left shoulder at Andy. All the alpha does is raise his eyebrows at Zayn, and yet the motion is enough. It's such a small gesture but Zayn feels exposed, with how closely Liam is nestled to his side. Zayn knows what he must look like. He's never been the best at hiding how he feels, never been one to be conscious of his face or the expression he's wearing. It feels so stupidly obvious, now. Of course Andy would pick up on this.

The couch shifts around them and Andy reaches forward to grab the remote, muting the sound and going to the kitchen to grab three more beers. 

"Let's do a toast!" He half yells, riling Liam enough so he sits up from his perch against Zayn's side. Zayn is less sleepy and more sedated by the low lights and soft smiles. Grabbing a beer, he feels grateful for the cool condensation that greets his palm. It's something else to focus on, something to distract from the pull he feels in his gut.

"To my good friend Liam. You are such a good mate, mate. Been through thick and thin. I remember when you were in the back of the classroom with nothing to do but tie and untie your shoes. Remember that? I came over and asked you why you had no friends."

Liam laughs at that, slightly pink but obviously enjoying the humiliation. Andy's teeth glint under the light and his eyes are like wildfire, lit up from the inside like Zayn's never seen them before. 

"If I'd never walked over to you, Li, tell me who would've corrupted you? Who would've made you have some fun? We've definitely had our share of fun-" Zayn definitely recognizes that look, the pointed eyebrows and shit eating smirk that Andy throws over at Liam. He promptly flushes and fidgets with his bottle closed tightly between his two hands.

"Andy." Liam's smile, along with the softness to his face, has gone. Something like realization replaces it, a look like he knows and dreads what is going to happen next. "Let's not, yeah?"

"Oh, I think we should." If anything, Andy's telltale smirk has turned predatory. If there's one thing consistent about Andy Samuels, it's that he never lets anything go. "You loved it, Li, I know you- I know you did," he's hiccupping and slurring most of his words but the meaning is clear as day. Zayn should've known, he really, really should've seen it coming from a mile away. "Do you ever think about it? You've been so lonely, Liam. You've stayed away. Why were you gone for so long? Why could you never call me?" He's still smiling, but the conversation has turned on its head. Liam looks like he's about to make a run for it. It's like his tongue is swollen in his mouth, and he's trying to speak but the words won't come. 

"Zayn. I. It was so long ago, we were just kids. You have to believe me. We were just fooling around. I swear." He's frantic in his apology, eyes flicking back and forth to search for some sort of reassurance. "I didn't think it would even come up. He's. He was my best friend, we were just teenagers." Zayn can't calm the frenzy in his body, the new knowledge making his ears ring, but he just needs Liam to stop talking. He doesn't feel angry that Andy kept this from him, because why would he rationally want to tell Zayn? But Liam's looking at him with the pooled guilt of the world in his eyes, and Zayn feels a surge of something angry inside of him, he doesn't know what it is, or even who it's directed to, but all he knows is he needs Liam to stop talking. 

So he grabs both of his wrists in his hands. And he kisses him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've been meaning to post for awhile. I'll try to come up with systematic postings so you guys can keep up :) As always, Please leave any feedback/questions/comments here or on my tumblr, I'd love to hear from you! 
> 
> Much love, June


End file.
